Death of the Robins
by AngelOfPride
Summary: Batman comes to rescue his boys...but not soon enough, and he discovers the fate of his sons. Bruce Wayne POV, major character deaths.
1. Chapter 1

He could practically feel his heart pounding as he smashed against the door. With foot. With shoulder. He was willing to slam into it head-first if need be. He just knew- four important lives rested on him getting through.

There was silence on the other side of the cold, metal door, and it only made his blood run colder. There are those who would say this was out of character. After all, what was there that could make the rock-solid Batman flinch? But despite the icy outer shell, even Bruce Wayne had his fears; those he feared for. His kids. Not by blood of course, but he saw them as his own, each with their individual perks and flaws, annoying traits and brilliant habits.

As the faces of each went through his mind, he felt suddenly fuelled, and he threw his shoulder into the door. The clank on the other side told him that the bolt had given way, and the door flung open with a shocked creek.

Bruce staggered in, the darkness engulfing him- the darkness that once provided comfort, now felt like a looming shadow, taunting him by giving him merely the outline of fate, but not the true form.

However, as the dawn light rose outside, seeping in through the doorway, he saw what had become of his boys. And he wanted to fall down and weep beside them.

He let his horrified gaze wonder over each. Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damain Wayne. All four of them. All four of their still young faces were bruised, bloody. He was sure Tim even had a damaged cheek bone. None of them moved a single millimetre, and as much as he tried to assure himself that it was because of exhaustion-that they'd raise their heads and sigh with relief when they saw him- he knew that was not the case.

He knelt down by Damian first, and held back the tears in his eyes. He had to admit, his relationship with the boy had never been how you say...stable. He'd barely been there for him, but Damian was his true son- biological. Seeing him like this, the youngest of the boys, was enough to reduce the Dark Knight to tears. He stroked Robin's short, dark, dusty hair softly, feeling blood soak his glove, "I'm so sorry son...I'm so sorry..."

Bruce looked over at Jason, who lay slumped against the wall very close by. A single bullet shot in his forehead showed the cause of the second son's death. Despite his grief, Bruce found himself curious. The others appeared to have been beaten down, or some other method that would be long and suffering. He slowly placed the pieces together, and came to the conclusion. Jason had been trying to defend his youngest brother. His hand was limply holding onto a single knife, his shoulders still appeared tense. It seemed that he'd just been too much of a task to hesitate in killing. Bruce would have smiled fondly if not for his heart being torn apart. It would be Jason- the last to give up, the one who would never sit quietly despite the risk. Bruce sighed, because now he'd lost this boy twice, and this time there was no chance of getting him back.

He got up slowly, tearing himself away from the two. In his blindly sorrowed state, he almost tripped over a third body, and bit his lip as he looked down to find himself looking at the back of Tim-lying face down on the floor with a small pool of blood around his head. Taking a deep breath, Bruce bent down and rolled over his third son slowly, but he instantly regretted it. It took only a second to recognise the gash on Red Robin's temple, a second more to acknowledge that there was no way that he could still be alive judging by the depth and obvious savageness of the wound. Bruce sighed as he stared into the glazed pale blue eyes that once held such enthusiasm, and he gently closed them, his breath hitching as he tried to imprint them in his mind.

"Bruce...Bruce..."

He whirled around at the familiar, weak voice.

"Dick!?"

He quickly noticed his eldest's athletic form huddled in the shadows of the corner, lying on his side with his back to Bruce. Dick's voice was small, weak, and his whimper grew into a desperate pining.

Bruce rushed over and knelt by his son, "I'm here Dick! I'm right here! Thank God you're okay!" he sighed.

Dick shivered, everything about him screaming out fear and pain, "Y-You are...?"  
"Yeah Dick." Bruce said with a small smile, "I promise you I'm here."  
As Dick tried to raise his, Bruce held in a gasp. The poor boy's once striking blue eyes (no longer covered by his mask) had become murky, the skin around both was black and swollen.

"I...I can't see! Bruce...B-Bruce why can't I see...?" Dick whimpered, trying to look around and find the man.

Bruce rubbed Dick's shoulder gently, "Shh. Relax. You're injured, you have to rest until you get some help." Bruce instructed, trying to stop his voice shaking.

Dick relaxed slowly, but more out of exhaustion and pain than willingness. Bruce could feel his uneven heartbeat, and it was slowing.

"The others...Where are they?" Dick rasped.

Bruce swallowed back the tears, "They...They're..." he sighed. He wanted to lie, but this was Dick Grayson- Nightwing -The first Robin, and he could read him like a book, eyes or not, "They're gone Dick."

Dick blinked his unseeing eyes slowly, then shivered, "I'm sorry." he whimpered, beginning to sob, "I'm sorry!"

"Dick- it isn't your fault!" Bruce assured him, feeling his own tears start to spill again.

"It is! I'm their brother...I was supposed to keep them safe!" Dick cried. It was clear that every shudder that went through his athletic body was only increasing the pain.

Bruce took a long breath, "Dick...it isn't your fault." he hushed softly, "I promise you, it isn't your fault."  
Dick's sobbing slowly subsided, and he was quiet for a few moments, before speaking, "Am I gonna die too?"  
Bruce blinked, "No." he shook his head stubbornly, "No!"  
"You're lying Bruce..."

"I'm not!"

"I always know when you're lying...You get really defensive."  
Bruce gave a half-hearted chuckle as Dick flashed a weak smile before speaking, "I...I don't want to go..."  
"You don't need to! You just gotta hold on- you hear me?!"  
"But then who'd look after the others?" Dick joked hoarsely, "They're tear each over apart without me there."

Bruce smiled softly, cradling his eldest in his arms protectively.

"You won't leave me...right? Not till..."  
Bruce clenched his teeth in grief, "No. I won't leave you."  
Dick breathed out a sigh of relief and his shoulders released the tension that had consumed them.

"I love you Dad."  
Bruce winced, love and grief possessing his body at the same time, clashing for dominance.

"I love you too son. Y-You keep an eye on them for me okay? Just till I get there."

Dick smiled half-heartedly, "Just till you get there..." he repeated quietly.

Bruce stroked his eldest's dark hair softly, and there was silence except for Dick's ragged breaths. And soon- even that was gone, and when it was- The Dark Knight broke down and wailed over his sons' bodies.

It didn't take long for the rest of the Justice League to arrive. When they realised that the man couldn't be moved from where he was, it took Superman to pull him away while Bruce wailed and fought desperately against the Kryptonian.

To Bruce- his world had fallen apart. He had lost all four sons in one day. The one who had started it all, who had taught him that he could love again after his parents. The one who tested him, who proved that that love could be channelled in different ways. The one who had sorted out the problems in his mind and showed him that he could rebuild that love after losing it. And the one who had made him believe that the very same love could overlook anything and any distance and any time.

The four who introduced him to love were gone. And he didn't feel he would ever experience such a joy again, not until he was reunited with his sons.


	2. Chapter 2

Weeks passed, and Bruce hadn't left home once since he lost his boys. Alfred would poke his head through the door occasionally, only to sigh in sorrow as he saw the younger man slouched on a chair staring at the wall.

The butler practically felt the waves of grief that radiated off of Master Bruce, as well as his own- and it was overwhelming. It had killed him to see the four young masters brought back, hanging limply in the arms of the Justice League.

The funeral had been even more difficult. It was bad enough to lose one of the boys, but all four? All at once? He was surprised his ageing bones had been able to cope with it. Then again he still wasn't sure he wouldn't break down soon. It was only for Bruce that he stayed strong. Alfred could remember back to when each had been brought in, way back to when Master Dick had been but a newly orphaned child. He had watched them grow, each taking on the Robin persona, then their own. Nightwing, Red Hood and Red Robin. And he had loved them all. Of course, he didn't pretend he felt the same grief as Master Bruce. Of course he was hurting, terribly in fact, but he wasn't the one who had taken these boys in and raised them as a father.

But to Alfred, it seemed that all Hell was breaking loose. Without them, chaos seemed to be ensuing out in the world. The guardians were no longer around to protect their cities, and Master Bruce hadn't so much as glanced at the Bat-suit. It seemed to be an ever-lasting reminded of his sons, and Alfred feared that it would remain so forever.

Bruce had never felt such grief in his life. After the rest of the League had gotten his boys back home, the funeral wasn't long after, so as to keep away the snooping cameras of the press and wailing public. A few had shown up, but Diana and Donna were quick to shoe them away, and it was a small group of only the closest to mourn the loss.

Bruce hadn't cried during the ceremony. In fact, he hadn't felt anything. He just couldn't believe that he was stood there, before the four graves of his sons. He had always expected that it would be them standing before his. However, he should have seen it coming. For as the small group began to slowly fade out, the clouds rolling in, he broke. He fell to his knees before the stones of his sons, and he sobbed for hours. The boys who brought love back into his heart were gone. And he found himself suddenly angry. He hated this love! He hated this love that had softened his heart, seeped into his mind and possessed it like some kind of ghost! He hated this love that brought with it the price of grief!

That night, his dreams were filled with shadows...

_Their voices echoed in his mind, screaming, crying._

_As he struggled through the darkness, he came to a faint patch of light. He gasped as he saw the huddled figure with its back to him, and his breath caught in his throat as he recognised the form._

"_Damian?!"_

_A faint sobbing filled his ears, and he took a step closer, "Damian? Son?"_

_Suddenly, the boy whirled around, and Bruce recoiled in horror. Blood dripped down his young face from an obvious gash in his head, his mask had been torn away and lay at his knees, revealing his wide-eyed gaze of fear, anger-insanity. _

"_DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"  
Bruce's eyes widened, "Damian, what are you talking-"  
"STAY AWAY! I-I'LL HURT YOU! I SWEAR IT!"  
Bruce realised the boy was staring past him, but when he turned, there was nobody there, and Damian was starting to scramble backwards, dragging himself with his hands while a broken leg trailed after limply. He suddenly jolted as though somebody had whacked him._

"_LEAVE HIM!"  
Bruce jumped as Jason's furious yell echoed through the darkness, and he saw the young man suddenly appear crawling from the shadows. Blood soaked his beige jacket, his face bruised. He seemed to struggle against something as Damian writhed on the ground, jolting. Suddenly, Jason staggered to his feet, racing towards his brother...when a bullet shot echoed through the air, stopping him. Bruce whirled around to see the source, but nothing. He watched in horror as Jason stumbled, a faint trickle of scarlet sliding down his already bloody face. He staggered backwards, hitting an invisible wall, and slumped to the ground motionless. Damian stopped moving soon after, his final wail of pain cut off abruptly._

"_No...No!" A faint wailing made Bruce tear himself away, only to see Tim thrown to the ground face-down. He jolted slightly, moaning as his back was pushed down as though somebody was stepping on him. He shrieked as an unseen bat smashed against his head multiple times, until eventually, clearly already exhausted, the boy lay still, stopped fighting, and let a final blow end him. Bruce watched his blue eyes slowly become murky, glazing over as the life seeped out of him._

_Bruce whimpered and staggered away, but the three bodies of his sons lay littered around him. As he turned to run, but gasped as he found Dick gripping his leg with one hand with a surprisingly strong grip. His legs were both clearly crushed, and horrid gashes and cuts littered his body, as red as the Nightwing sign on his bloody suit. _

"_Bruce..." he rasped, shocking the man- considering none of the others appeared able to see him._

_Dick wretched briefly, blood splattering the ground before he looked up, his striking blue eyes teary with pain and exhaustion, "Bruce..I-I'm sorry...I couldn't protect them...I-" He coughed again, more blood escaping his lips, "I...It's up t-to you now Bruce...I'm sorry..." he wretched feebly, his eyes slowly turning to a grey mist, before dropping his head again, and Bruce felt his grip on his ankle weaken, then going limp._

_Bruce whimpered in horror, staring at the four bodies around him, surrounding him. He couldn't escape! There was no way to deny it! Everywhere he turned, there was a body! A body of his sons! His heart pounded, his limbs shook, tears were in his eyes! When suddenly...a light appeared. The four bodies disappeared in a flurry of black sand and fog as the light blasted through the darkness, and Bruce gasped as he made out four figures standing bold against the rays._

"_I...It can't be!" he whispered._

_But it was. He stared as his sons, all four, walked up towards him. He expected some great terror to appear next, but none came. He was just face to face with his boys, and they looked...happy! Their eyes were unhidden by masks revealing a healthy, youthful glow._

_Tim had the usual bright smile on his face, Damian that sort of reluctant grin, Dick that permanent 'I told you so' look about him, Jason that cocky smirk. _

"_Some of us didn't get to say goodbye." Tim said with a shrug._

_Bruce shivered, "b-but you're dead! I-I'm dreaming."  
Dick nodded, "Yeah, you are. But it doesn't mean we aren't really here."_

"_I...I don't understand."_

"_You don't have to. We're here, and we'll always be here."_

_Bruce swallowed hard, "But...I need you. All of you! I can't live without you."  
"Dad, we're not going anywhere." Damian said with bright eyes, not the horror-filled ones Bruce had been faced with earlier._

"_We're still with you Bruce." Dick insisted, smiling fondly, "And we always will be."  
"Till you die aged over 80 preferably, then you're stuck with us properly again." Jason said with a grin and a raised eyebrow._

_Bruce smiled lightly, tears in his eyes. As though sensing it, surprisingly Damian launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around his father, "I love you Dad." he said quietly._

_Bruce laughed gently, "I love you too Damian. More than anything. I'm sorry I didn't tell you enough before..." he looked up, "You three too."  
Jason's eyes actually softened, "Same for you old man."_

_Tim grinned, "Love you too Bruce. And we'll always be here for you."  
"Just like you were there for us." Dick added._

"_Not when you needed me..." Bruce sighed. He felt Dick place a firm hand on his shoulder._

"_Wrong. You were there for all of us when we needed you. Without you, I'd be an orphan god knows where. We'd all be different."  
"And I like being me- screwed up or not." Jason said._

"_Or not." Tim answered._

_Jason smirked at his younger brother, ruffling his short dark hair fondly, "Thanks Replacement."  
Bruce smiled as everything began to fade, though he wanted to cling onto his boys._

"_You just gotta let go Bruce. We'll be here for you." Dick said softly, "Always."_

_Bruce grinned, "Always." he repeated quietly, and let reality gently pull him back._

But he kept that image of his boys in his head. Smiling, careless, not a seed of conflict within them. Peaceful. And as time went on, he knew he would never get over losing them till the day he died, but he also knew, he could never regret taking in those boys. They changed him, and for the better at that.

And they were always there for him, in life or not. Always.


End file.
